James Potter
by Jarlaxle Baenre
Summary: James has fallen in love with Lily... to use a horribly overused cliche... at first sight. He would try to marry her at age eleven, except for one problem. Lily doesn't exactly like him back. I changed the title, because it wasn't quite matching the story
1. First Impressions

Disclaimer: If I owned these characters, do you honestly think this would be posted on a fan fiction site? Huh, if these were all mine, I'd be a millionaire. Obviously, I don't own them. And I made up an older brother for Lily Evans, who actually is a figment of my imagination. That's about it. So please read and review.

I don't know where it all started. Perhaps it was during our first ride on the Hogwarts Express, or perhaps in our fourth year, in Potions together. Maybe it was simply… meant to be, like a prearranged destiny, with the blessing of some great deity. I really, honestly couldn't tell you.

All I know is that more and more recently, when I see those brilliant green eyes, I know I can never rest until they know me for what I am.

Well, I do remember when we first met. A complete fiasco, now that you mention it. I think that first impression has stuck with her all six and a half years we've been at Hogwarts. I suppose I might as well tell you. What can it hurt? Alright then, you asked for it. Here goes nothing.

The scarlet steam engine sat in front of me, warming up to leave in less than five minutes. Dad rolled the trolley over to the train, where an attendant loaded my trunk into the compartment. Mum hovered over me like… well, like any mother about to send their only child away for nine months. I paid little attention to them; my focus was on the witches and wizards bustling around me on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. I had never had much contact with others of the wizarding community. Dad had taken me with him to the Ministry once or twice, but other than that, I had a couple of private tutors and distant glimpses of wizards, and that was about it.

Private tutors, you ask? Yeah, my parents were kind of nutters about education. They wanted to make sure I was all caught up with the other kids when I finally came to Hogwarts. I tried to tell them that none of the other kids would know _anything_ about magic, but, well, they didn't listen. So by the time I turned eleven, I knew the theory of just about every spell I was supposed to be able to do right up through the end of my third year. I couldn't actually do them, of course; that would've been against the law. But I knew the wand motions, the exact inflection, and even the spelling of about a gazillion spells.

We can afford all of this because Dad- Mr. Abraham Potter, as he was known to everyone else- was the head of the Department for Interfactual Musical Coronation… or something like that. We also have a ton of gold that's been passed down for centuries from our "pureblood" ancestors. Not that I give a care about all the pureblood, muggle-born, halfblood or anything, but being a pureblood does have its advantages.

After a tearful hug from my mother and a consolidating pat from my father, I boarded the Hogwarts Express just as the whistle sounded. It was about then that I freaked out.

I was alone for the first time in my life. I didn't know anyone, I was leaving London, where I'd lived my entire life, and I was going to a school I knew next to nothing about. Mum had gone to Beauxbatons, a French school of witchcraft, and Dad's parents had preferred to keep him home and have him privately tutored.

I almost started crying right then and there. But I was growing up now, and, like all hormonal boys, I refused to let myself show my weaknesses. So I pushed back the tears and made my way along the narrow hallway, looking for a compartment in which to seat myself.

The older kids all looked intimidating, so I settled for a compartment with two boys that looked my own age. I opened the door timidly. "Can I sit in here?" I asked, hoping that I wouldn't be rejected.

One of the boys shrugged. He had long, so-dark-brown-it-was-almost-black hair that fell handsomely (is it possible for an eleven-year-old to be handsome?) in front of his gray, fathomless eyes. The boy he was sitting across from had brown hair and had a pallid, sickly look about him, but his brown eyes were sharp and intelligent. Between them, hovering in the air was a chessboard. The pale boy prodded a rook forward to begin smashing up the other boy's bishop, and then he turned to look up at me.

"I'm Remus," he told me, "Remus Lupin."

"James Potter," I said. "Nice to meet you. Are you a first year, too?"

As the pale boy nodded, the other one leaned forward in his seat. "James Potter? You wouldn't happen to know Abraham Potter, Head of the Department for International Magical Cooperation, would you?"

So that was it. Magical, not musical. "He's my dad," I said, nonplussed.

"Thought so," he muttered. Then he extended his hand. "I'm Sirius Black."

I took the hand. Little did I know then that this Sirius Black was to become my best friend in the entire world.

Sirius returned to the chessboard as I assumed a seat beside him. I watched, as in three swift moves, Remus checkmated the king. Sirius scowled moodily and turned away, and I saw that Remus couldn't contain a small smile as he scooped the pieces back into the box.

Sirius pulled out of his pocket a tiny, winged ball: a snitch. I got excited. The part about Hogwarts that I had looked forward to the most was Quidditch. After all the practices I'd had with myself in the backyard, I was pretty darn good, if I do say so myself.

He released it and let it soar an arms length away before snatching at it. He caught it the first time, but when he tried to repeat the feat, he missed. I stretched my hand out and grasped it.

He grinned at me. "Nice catch.

Remus pulled out a book called _Spells and Their Origins_ and buried his nose in it. Sirius and I engaged ourselves in a conversation about Quidditch, trying to outdo each other's knowledge.

Around lunchtime, a witch wheeled a trolley laden with all kinds of sweets past our compartment and asked if we wanted to buy anything. Remus hardly glanced at it, turning slightly red, as Sirius and I unloaded our pockets and bought about five of everything. This was when I first noticed that Remus's robes were a bit shabby, as though he had gotten them second hand.

I tossed him a chocolate frog and opened one myself, saying, "Don't look so glum. You start the year out that way and you'll be in tears by the end of term."

He smiled reluctantly and opened the chocolate frog. The card inside displayed Albus Dumbledore, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts. Remus frowned. "I didn't know he was famous enough to be on a chocolate frog card."

Sirius' eyebrows went up. "You must be pretty behind the times to not know how famous Dumbledore is. Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards… the whole thing. Name an award, and he's won it."

Remus turned red again. "Oh. I don't really read the newspapers."

At that moment, the door slid open. Standing in the doorframe was a first year girl with dark red hair in a long braid and green, almond-shaped eyes.

My mouth dropped open. This was the most beautiful eleven-year-old girl I had ever, _ever_ seen.

When she looked at me, I had the decency to close my mouth. We all stood there in awkward silence for a moment before she spoke. "Have you seen a boy named Brian Evans? Tall, red hair?"

I shook my head dumbly. She looked at me oddly. "Are you related to Abraham Potter? You look like him."

I nodded. And I just couldn't keep it in any longer. "You're really pretty," I told her.

She looked at me coolly (she never seems to lose her cool), but her eyes betrayed confusion, as though she couldn't tell whether I was mocking her or paying her a compliment.

"Thank you. I'll be going now." She turned around and began to stalk away.

"Wait!" I called after her. "What's your name?"

Her only reply was to swing her beautiful braid over her shoulder and disappear into a compartment further down the hall.


	2. Alas

Upon our arrival at Hogwarts, we clambered out of the train, all dressed in our school robes. Towering over us was the silhouette of a humongous- and I mean _ginourmous_- man, calling in a rough voice, "Firs' Years! Firs' Years over here! This way!"

We meandered over to him, slightly intimidated (can you blame us? This guy was ten feet tall!), and huddled together, chilled by the cold September air. We were quickly joined by about forty-five others, all shivering and gazing apprehensively at the looming castle.

The giant introduced himself as Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts, and led us down a long path that wended through a thick grove of trees.

About three minutes into our walk, Sirius, walking beside me, nudged me in the side and pointed into the trees. Through them, we could see a small, flickering light that looked far away.

Without hesitation, Sirius dropped inconspicuously away from the path toward the light. After a glance to make sure Hagrid wasn't looking, I followed. Remus looked torn between coming with us and being a good little boy, but when Sirius sent him a withering glance, he steeled himself and plunged into the trees after us.

We fought our way through the brambles and undergrowth, emerging some fifteen minutes later. We found ourselves on the crest of a hill, where the forest ended and the sprawling countryside began. At the bottom of the rocky hill was a small village. "Hogsmede," Sirius breathed. "That's the only entirely wizarding village in the whole country."

And between us and the village was a fence.

Unperturbed, Sirius walked up to it, put his fingers through one of the links, and began to climb up. Once he got to the top, he swung both legs over and dropped to the ground. I hesitated, but my curiosity got the better of me.

With both of us on the out-of-Hogwarts side of the fence, we looked back at Remus. He was gazing apprehensively at the fence. "I don't think we should," he said.

"Why not? What's the worst that can happen? We'll be put in detention, that's all."

He still looked leery. "It's against the rules. Only Third Years and up are allowed here."

His opinion changed, however, when I stuck my hands in my armpits, waved my elbows up and down, and said, "Bwock! Bwock, bwock, bwock, bwock, bwock! Chicken!"

His eyes narrowed. And he climbed the fence.

Three minutes later found us walking past a pretty big cave in the rocky hillside. Looking inside, Sirius whistled. "Wow. If we ever need someplace to hide…"

His voice trailed off, and we heard the echo bouncing around the walls. We continued onward, finally reaching the edge of the village. Sirius, who appeared to have been here before, led us through the streets to a pub called the Three Broomsticks.

A pretty lady with glittering eyes stood at the bar, taking the order of a man with a pasty-white face and pointy front teeth. The drink she brought him was dark red and thick.

"Vampire," Remus muttered as we walked confidently up to the counter.

The barmaid looked at us suspiciously. "You three look like you should be up at the school, being sorted into houses."

"Us?" Sirius said in an Irish accent, with a disdainful air to it. "No, ma'am, we're visiting the village with out parents. They're over at Madam Puddifoot's, having a cup of coffee. They sent us here because they 'don't think the atmosphere is conducive to a creative environment.'"

"I see," she said, but she still sounded doubtful. "Are you all three brothers, then?"

"No, just me and James are twins. Remus' parents are here, visiting with ours. Now, how about some fire whiskey?"

Then I felt a rather large hand on my shoulder. I looked up sheepishly to see an old witch with a tight bun on the back of her head. Her other hand was on Sirius' left shoulder. Her lips were compressed into a tight line, and her sparks were practically flying from her eyes. "You three," she said softly, "are in bigger trouble than you have been in your entire lives. You're to come back up to the school with me, where you'll be sorted." Grabbing Remus' ear, she added, "And I hope it's not into my house."

As it turned out, we were. Upon entering the Great Hall, all three of us were sorted into Gryffindor House, of which Professor McGonagall- the witch who had come to retrieve us- was the head. Immediately after we were sorted, McGonagall pulled us into the entrance hall to receive our punishment.

The first few weeks of term passed really, really slowly. Apart from spending our first four nights in detention, we had gotten lost three times, been splattered with ink by Peeves the Poltergeist, nearly been eaten by a sixth year who's robes we accidentally set on fire while we were attempting a wizard's duel in the hall outside of Charms class, and been told that First Years weren't allowed on the Quidditch team.

I learned quickly that while I knew everything there was to know about magic, Sirius knew everything about the magical world that wasn't magic. He knew every department in the Ministry of Magic, its function, its location, and its members. He could recite every wizarding school in the world off the top of his head, and he even knew the date of every goblin rebellion in history (a good thing, too; I would have failed every one of my History of Magic exams if he hadn't told me the answers to everything the night before).

Remus, unlike either of us, knew everything there was to know about everything. He soaked in new knowledge like a sponge, and he read everything he could get his hands on. As sickly as he looked, he wasn't shy, and he would ask teachers anything that pertained (or didn't) to the subject.

The funny thing about Remus was this: about once a month, he would disappear for a night, and neither of us could figure out why. We badgered him about it the first couple times, but eventually we learned to leave it alone. We learned to accept it as one of those mysterious things about the wizarding world that very few people knew the answer to. We put up with it.

And then there was this other person. Her name was Lily Evans, as I learned very quickly. She had been sorted into Gryffindor as well, and though she at first treated me with cool indifference, it soon turned to outright dislike. I didn't understand why; I was popular, top of the year, and (if I do say so myself) rather good-looking. And I was good at Quidditch, though I couldn't show that off because first years weren't allowed on the team (that made me really angry, if you haven't figured that out yet). I resolved that she was just jealous. She'd come around in time.

Had I known then how long I would have to wait, I'd have given up right then and there.


	3. Peter and Snape

Lily continued to hate me throughout the year. I pretended to hate her back, but my friends saw through my bluff. They teased me incessantly, stopping only when I threatened to curse them with a Jelly-Legs jinx. They took it seriously; I was pretty darn good at those. She hated me mostly because of my taunting of Snape.

Ah, Severus Snape. I haven't introduced him yet, have I? Snape was a boy in the first year with us, and he slavered over the Dark Arts like they were a particularly large piece of banana cream pie. The Sorting Hat had put him in Slytherin before it had even touched his head. Gryffindors and Slytherins have an inherent rivalry (I think it's been going on for centuries; sometimes I wonder if the house ghosts weren't the start of it), so we hated him from the start, but only as badly as the rest of the Slytherins.

But then we had Potions, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins, and it didn't take long to figure out how much of a git this Severus Snape was.

We hated each other from the very beginning, from our first Potions class. I was jealous of his talent with potions; he envied my skill in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Not that Potions was my favorite class (Professor Slughorn was… not the best- he tended to favor students who flattered him with crystallized pineapple), but I was the undisputed best in everything else. He cared only about Defense Against the Dark Arts. I couldn't wait to rub my talent for Qudditch into his sallow face next year, when I was allowed on the team.

And then there was another acquaintance. After things at Hogwarts had settled down, the school began separating into social ranks once more. There were the smart and popular, consisting mostly of rich purebloods, down to the scum of the earth (like Snape), and then the people out on the sides, like the nerdy geeks and disturbed ones that make you think that they should be locked in Azkaban, not Hogwarts.

Sirius and I were definitely at the top (of the first years, at least- one git, a Slytherin sixth year prefect named Lucius Malfoy never missed an opportunity to inform us that he would always be our superior). Remus sat up there, too, because we were his friends. It wasn't long before we noticed another small boy tailing us around. His name was Peter. Peter Pettigrew.

He was a rather small boy, and timid, like a mouse. He had tawny hair and a shaky smile. Before long, he had joined our little group of friends, turning us from a trio into a foursome. We abused him good-naturedly fairly often- he reacted so well to it. He would turn bright red and look as though he were about to start crying unless we said we were joking. It was great.

Remus continued to make up excuses as to where he'd go every month. It was this more than anything that made us want to know what was wrong; if he had to lie about it, then it must be bad. He could just have told us it was a secret, and that would have been the end of it.

But he kept telling us that his mother was sick and needed him home, that his father had broken his leg and couldn't move, that his parents needed him home to care for his little brother for a bit. We stopped believing him after the third time. Sirius was very curious. Towards the end of our first year, he began spending hours on end in the library.

And still, Lily hated me. It wasn't like I taunted Snape horribly- he was a greasy slimeball git who deserved it anyway. No one liked him; he was very poor and about to drown in his obsession with the Dark Arts. But I've already explained all this. Point is, he deserved it, full on. I had no regrets when I threw a Jelly Legs jinx at him out of the corner of my mouth or when his book bag _accidentally_ split along the seam. He deserved it.


	4. Werewolf?

Disclaimer: Do I really have to tell you that this isn't my idea? Honestly, nothing on this entire site is original; it's all copied off someone else. So for the gazillionth time, I am _not_ J.K. Rowling. Wow. It didn't really take a genius to figure that one out, did it?

Author's Note: I'm loving the reviews, and the more that come, the faster the chapters get up. And I want to thank two authors by the pen names of Lindri Night and Isadora Johnson (whose stories you should really check out, by the way) for allowing me to use their real last names… even though they didn't really have a choice in the matter. Anyway, back to James and Lily…

Our end-of-term exams crept up on us far faster than any of us wished. I very vividly remember a Saturday just before our exams, one that seems so long ago now….

Peter clambered through the portrait hole. "James," he said, panting slightly (the climb to the Gryffindor common room isn't exactly an easy one), "Would you help me study? I can't remember half of the History of Magic stuff…."

"Ask Sirius," I said dryly, not looking up from my game of chess with Remus. "He knows everything."

Remus prodded his rook forward to begin beating up my bishop. "He's upstairs, in the dormitory," he added, glancing up.

Peter kind of… I dunno, wilted. His shoulders sagged and his mouth began to curl into a pout. He looked as though he were about to start to cry… as usual. Let me say now that Sirius was the least kind to Peter out of the lot of us. He treated him more like he did Snivellus (I mean, Snape). Remus and I teased him, but we always apologized. Sirius was downright malicious.

Remus did something with his bishop and his queen, and I suddenly found that my king had been checkmated. I looked from the board to Remus and back to the board, unable to figure out how he had done it (or find anything illegal about it). He smiled secretively and shrugged, sweeping the pieces back into the box. I glanced at my watch. "I stayed in the game for eight minutes. That's a record."

Remus laughed and stood up. "Let's go to the library. Admit it, James, you really need to study if you want to pass any of your exams."

My mouth dropped open in indignation. "Me? Need to study? I could recite everything we're going to be tested on, and then I could do it backwards!"

He looked at me skeptically. "Alright, then, in what year did David Williams become Minister of Magic?"

My mouth opened and closed several times, but that didn't mean I knew. I was defeated. As I stood up and shoved my books into my bag, I muttered rebelliously, "But Portia Stevenson invented the Quaffle in 1813."

I went upstairs to get Sirius (he knew more about David Williams' ministry than anyone alive) and came back down five minutes later, a grumbling best friend in tow. He grinned maliciously at Peter, raised his eyebrows at Remus, and led the way out of the portrait hole.

Quailing under the glare of the young librarian Madame Pince, we tiptoed into the library and plopped down at an empty table. Remus began quizzing Peter and me, while Sirius interrupted every now and then to fix a fact that one of us got wrong. It was no more than fifteen minutes before Sirius got bored and began wandering through the rows of books.

He returned five minutes later with a thick, dusty book that had the words _A Complete Analysis of the Werewolf_ emblazoned across the front.

Remus glanced up as he sat down, then did a double-take. He paled slightly, and his next question was asked in a rather high-pitched voice. "What book did Anna Van Engelenhoven write, and how did it influence the society in the mid-eighteen hundreds?"

I looked at him strangely. Peter noticed nothing; he was busy trying to stammer out the answer that he didn't know. I interrupted him. "She wrote a book called _Aponi_, which awakened more affluent people to the horrible conditions of magic in the streets and stirred them to action. Remus, are you okay?"

"Yes," he said, but his voice was still high.

"No," said Sirius at the same time. "He's not."

"What do you mean, no I'm not?" Remus snapped, a little too quickly.

"We need to talk," Sirius said, slamming the book shut and drawing a glare from Madame Pince. "Outside."

Remus was shaking his head dumbly. I was really confused, and so was Peter, judging by the look on his face. "What's going on?" I asked, looking from Sirius to Remus and back again.

"Follow me," Sirius said grimly, stalking away. "All of you."

Sirius had a way of being very commanding, as though he thought he was the king of the magical world. And for some crazy reason, we always obeyed.

"Sirius," said Remus, standing up, "wait."

Sirius turned around. "What?"

"If you don't want to be my friend anymore because of what you've assumed, then that's fine with me. But I'd rather that you didn't ruin my friendships with James and Peter as well."

Sirius looked rather confused for a moment, but then he realized- unlike Peter and I- what Remus was talking about. His expression softened. "Of course I still want to be your friend, you git, but I want to talk outside. C'mon, it's a really nice day out."

I stood up, my curiosity getting the better of me, followed by Peter and a very tentative Remus, who still looked even more pale than usual, if you can imagine that.

Sirius led us to an enormous oak tree by the lake. The June sun was bright, and students everywhere lounged around, trying to study but not really getting anywhere. No one was within a few hundred feet of us, and Sirius seemed to have selected this spot just for that reason.

I plopped onto the grass next to Peter and Sirius, but Remus remained standing, pacing back and forth in the shade.

Sirius drew a deep breath. "Well."

After a moment of silence, I asked, "Well what?"

He shook his head. "Remus, are you going to tell them or do you want me to?"

Remus didn't look capable of talking. He had gone from pasty white to bright red.

"Alright, then," Sirius said, rolling onto his stomach, "I'll tell them."

"Tell us what?" Peter and I chorused in unison.

He drew another deep breath, and then he began. "Neither of you have failed to notice that our friend here disappears once a month or so."

We shook our heads, enthralled. If my older self had been there watching, it would have sighed in exasperation, thinking, _idiot first years._

"Well, we all know he makes up excuses for his absences."

Remus' head jerked up at this.

"Gimme a break, Remus, you don't think we actually believed all those stories?"

He shrugged, plainly embarrassed.

"Even Peter isn't that thick. Anyway, I've discovered where he goes. Or maybe not where, but at least why."

"Sirius," he said, his voice hoarse, "I'll tell them."

"Tell us _what_?" I asked exasperatedly. "We're not getting anywhere!"

Remus ran a hand through his light-brown hair, continuing to pace. "When I was a little kid," he said softly, "I was playing outside. It was evening, and my mum went in for a few minutes. I don't remember why.

"She didn't know that… that there was a werewolf on the loose. Otherwise she would never have ventured outside. But it just so happened that the werewolf had picked our neighborhood to prowl around in. I remember I was on a swing, trying to reach the ground, when I heard a noise and saw what looked like a tattered dog coming up the street. It had yellow eyes. It saw me, and it started chasing me. I ran, but I was little, I couldn't run very fast. It caught up and bit me."

It took a second for the implications of his story to hit. When it did, my mouth dropped open. "You're a _werewolf_?"

He nodded miserably.

I pumped the air with my fist. "Wow! I had no idea! That's amazing! A werewolf!"

He looked up timidly. "You don't… hate me for it?"

"Hate you for it?" I said, disbelieving. "Who would hate you for it? What's wrong with being a werewolf?"

"Just that people are scared of him," Sirius said grimly, "because they're afraid that he'll bite them."

Remus scowled. "I only bite at the full moon," he said defensively. "And even then only if I'm around people."

"You don't bite animals?" I asked, intrigued.

He shook his head. "Look, guys, I don't want to talk about it. I'm just glad that you… that you're still my friends." He looked rather sheepish, but the color was coming back to his face.

The revelation that one of my best friends was a werewolf rather dazzled me. I went through my exams in a sort of trance, passing all of them with top marks and not even caring.

And suddenly, the year was over. My trunk was packed, my dormitory straightened up. I was going home for the summer.

The train ride on the way back seemed to go by far too quickly. I didn't want to say goodbye to my friends or go home… home was so dull.

The scarlet steam engine chugged into platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The four of us had a compartment all to ourselves. As the Hogwarts express ground to a halt, I looked at my three friends.

"Well," I said. "I guess we'll see each other next year?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, and if I didn't know him better, I'd have sworn I saw a tear in his eye. "Maybe we'll be able to get together over the summer."

I shrugged. "I can get my dad to bring me over to your house…"

Sirius grimaced. "I don't think that would be such a good idea. You wouldn't like my parents. Or my little brother, for that matter."

"Oh," I said, dejected. "Then we'll all meet at my house and play Quidditch all summer."

Remus grinned as he made his way out of the compartment. "Give me a break. You all know I'm helpless at Quidditch."

"Not as bad as Peter," Sirius grinned.

Peter flushed.

We descended the steps of the train, the last connection to our exciting first year, and turned to face the long, dull summer….


	5. As if we weren't already animals

Okay, okay, I'm sorry it took so long to update. And that was the understatement of the century. I don't think I've updated in about two months. But here it is, and I hope it's long enough to make up for that rather conspicuous absence... 

Disclamer: Not mine. Sorry.

"Sirius!"

He looked up, spotted me, and grinned widely. He was on the opposite side of platform nine and three-quarters, standing next to Remus. I made my way through the crowd towards them.

"Hey, mate," I said, slapping Sirius on the back and punching Remus' shoulder. The Hogwarts Express gleamed brightly behind us, and we were gazing happily around at the summer-tanned faces of all our classmates, whom we hadn't seen for three months. "Where're your parents?" I asked Sirius, peering around. "I want to meet them."

"They didn't come," he muttered. "They dropped me off."

"Oh," I said, slightly crestfallen.

Just then my own parents joined us. I scowled. They were going to baby me, and in front of my friends and all.

Mum smothered me in kisses and Dad shook my hand as we boarded the train. With a loud whistle, it began slowly to move, picking up speed as we rounded the bend, and the platform disappeared from sight.

The ride was pleasant enough. We spent it catching up on each others' lives and joking and laughing and playing chess and Exploding Snap, the latter of which I won, no contest. Though I had been practicing all summer, I still couldn't beat Remus at chess, though I managed to stay in the game nineteen minutes once. I was rather proud of myself.

Peter found us just before the food trolley arrived, and Sirius and I each bought twice as much as we'd be able to eat, so we could share it with our friends. Remus looked embarrassed, but Peter shamelessly stuffed his face. I shook my head as he took another chocolate frog. "Don't you think you've had enough?" I asked.

"Never," he said, and proceeded to shove it into his mouth in one bite.

The first two weeks of school were almost entirely a nightmare for me. Aside from getting slammed in detention twice, I failed a test in Charms, burned down half the library while having a duel with Sirius, and nearly got eaten by the giant squid. However, I made the Quidditch team, which cancelled out all the bad parts; I was the only second year on the team, and I was the Seeker, an honorary position, if I do say so myself.

Snape was jealous. Very jealous. He tried out for the Slytherin team, but didn't come anywhere close to making it, so he settled with making snide comments at me whenever we passed each other. I compensated with hexing him when his back was turned, and he was consequently the laughing stock of most our year.

Except for Evans. She stood up for him. I could never see why. It just didn't make sense. She was popular, to say the least, but she wouldn't make fun of the weirdoes, ever. Sirius and Peter made fun of me for liking her (I thought I'd disguised it well enough, but I was proved wrong), Remus didn't take an opinion on the matter, and she was completely oblivious. It drove me nuts.

One day, just after Christmas break, I was sitting in the half of the library that wasn't undergoing major reconstruction (it was a wonder they let me in there) when Sirius came up to me and slammed a book on the table.

"Animagi?" I asked quizzically, reading the title.

"James, I've just had the best idea," he said, sitting down next to me. "Take a look."

He showed me a paragraph from another book. I scanned it quickly, then shrugged. "Werewolves don't attack animals? So what? We're not animals… or at least, I'm not… you're another matter entirely…"

He slugged me in the shoulder, but when he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, it was excited. "Put it together, you git."

I shook my head, nonplussed. "I don't get it."

He sighed exasperatedly. "Let me spell it out for you, smarty. Werewolves don't bite animals. Animagi are humans who turn into animals. Remus is a werewolf. When he transforms, he doesn't bite animals."

There was a moment of silence before I said, "You lost me, mate."

He sighed. "James, I wanna be an Animagus."

I got it. And I freaked out. "Sirius, you can't be… you can't be serious, no pun intended! You have to go through years of studying, and then you have to register with the Ministry, and there are so many regulations you have to follow, and-"

"James, shut up!" he hissed. I realized that the students at surrounding tables were looking at me strangely. I shut up.

"We can do it, James," he said as soon as everyone had turned back to his or her work. "I went to the library at the Ministry of Magic over the summer, and they have all kinds of books on it. I'm sure we could find something and have it sent in by mail…"

"You're crazy," I told him matter-of-factly.

I retained this mindset for several weeks. But soon enough I found myself imagining sneaking out under my invisibility cloak with Sirius and Peter in various animal forms, and Remus as a wolf. For some reason, I was always a stag. I decided- hypothetically speaking, of course- that if I did become an Animagus, my animal would be a stag, a huge one with three sets of tines on my antlers.

Sirius approached me again about a month later. "James," he said, "I know you think I'm crazy, but I've found a way that we can be Animagi." And this time I didn't reject the idea so readily. "How?" I asked, intrigued.

"I've put a book from the library on mail order, under the pretense of studying the process of becoming an Animagus for Transfiguration. It explains it in depth, and I think we can do it."

"It'll take years," I warned. "We might never get it."

" I know," he said, "but I have to try."

I had to hand it to the kid. He was determined.

Three days later, on Saturday morning, three owls carrying a heavy package wrapped in brown leather soared into the Great Hall during breakfast, drawing the attention of more than one person. They landed in the middle of Sirius' plate of eggs and bacon, knocking over the pitcher of pumpkin juice in front of him.

"It's here," he whispered to me.

"What's here?" asked Remus from his other side.

"Just a book," Sirius said quickly. Remus raised his eyebrows at me. I mouthed "later" and returned to my own eggs.

Sirius jammed the still-wrapped package into his bag. As soon as he was done, he snatched it up and dashed up to the dormitory. I followed him, Remus followed me, and Peter lagged behind to finish up the last of the bacon.

The common room was deserted; it was an abnormally warm day for the beginning of February, and students were taking advantage of the sun. Sirius put the book triumphantly on the table, slit open the wrappings, and grinned as he saw the title, _In Depth Animagi._

"Animagi?" Remus asked suspiciously. I was surprised. I had assumed that Sirius had told him before he even told me. Now it didn't look like he knew anything.

Sirius was excited. "James and I had this idea-" I shot him an alarmed look. "Alright," he said repentantly, "_I _had this idea…"

And he proceeded to tell Remus what he was planning.

Remus sank into a chair. Sirius looked concerned. "Of course," he said quickly, "if you don't want us to-"

"No," Remus interrupted. "It's not that. It's just…"

"Yes?" I prompted.

"I can't say how grateful I am that someone… that you guys would do this for me. I'm amazed."

"You're our friend," I said defensively. "We'd turn into piles of dragon dung if we thought it would help you."

"Well," Sirius said, "_I_ would. James already looks enough like one to pass…"

Remus smiled wanly. "Don't worry, I don't think you'll have to do that."

"What about Peter?" I asked.

"I'll tell him. It's up to him if he wants to do it," Sirius said. "His animal can be a rat."

We all laughed, but I stopped suddenly. "I want to be a stag."

"Really?" Sirius said mildly. "I must say, it'd be an improvement on you appearance…"

I couldn't resist. I pummeled him. He didn't stand a chance.


End file.
